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Addicted with a Twist
Addicted with a Twist
Addicted with a Twist
Ebook63 pages48 minutes

Addicted with a Twist

By Zane

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

3.5/5

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About this ebook

From the Queen of Erotica, Zane’s Addicted with a Twist is the sequel to Addicted, her wildly popular novel about a married woman whose life spirals out of control when her three affairs lead her down a dark and twisted path.

Three years after the end of Addicted, Zoe and Jason Reynard are still married and raising their family together. But Zoe has a new “dirty little secret” that leaves her torn between being honest with her therapist, Dr. Marcella Spencer, and her mother—or continuing her forbidden hotel rendezvous with a man who calls himself “Orpheus.”

Has Zoe truly overcome her sexual addiction through the strength of her love for her husband and continued therapy? Or is she still jeopardizing everything and everyone she holds dear in order to satisfy her fantasies?
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAtria Books
Release dateNov 24, 2014
ISBN9781501102493
Addicted with a Twist
Author

Zane

Zane is the New York Times bestselling author of Afterburn, The Heat Seekers, Dear G-Spot, Gettin’ Buck Wild, The Hot Box, Total Eclipse of the Heart, Nervous, Skyscraper, Love is Never Painless, Shame on It All, and The Sisters of APF; the ebook short stories “I’ll be Home for Christmas” and “Everything Fades Away”; and editor for the Flava anthology series, including Z-Rated and Busy Bodies. Her TV series, Zane’s Sex Chronicles, and The Jump Off are featured on Cinemax, and her bestselling novel Addicted is a major motion picture with Lionsgate Films. She is the publisher of Strebor Books, an imprint of Atria Books/Simon & Schuster. Visit her online at EroticaNoir.com.

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    I enjoyed what I read, but the ending felt incomplete.

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Addicted with a Twist - Zane

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"Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does.

Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up."

—James Baldwin

LIBERTINE—a person who has sex with no morals.

Life is often amusing. Right when you honestly start to believe that you have everything figured out and under control, you get this curveball thrown at you that you can’t quite maneuver your emotional well-being into the position to catch. Right when you’ve convinced yourself that you are that chick and that your life is the total package, you find yourself once again falling off the proverbial track of life.

It was apropos that I happened to be vibing with Bedroom Eyes off the 1992 Isley Brothers album, Tracks of Life, as I pulled up to the valet desk at the Mandarin Oriental on Peachtree Road. My curiosity had overwhelmed me when a card key to the Mandarin Suite was dropped off at my office earlier in the day. Shane, my assistant, eyed me with much suspicion as she placed the black silk envelope on my desk mere seconds after I had completed a conference call with a gallery in New York about an up-and-coming artist we were trying to co-brand with showings so everyone could get paid. Business was booming, and it was not from a lack of me busting my ass as usual.

A courier dropped this off for you. Shane sat the envelope, with my name and office address written in silver calligraphy on the front, on my desk and waited anxiously for me to open it. Must be an invitation to a party.

Well, you know how much Jason and I love a good shindig. I giggled and slid my freshly manicured index finger into the flap to pull it open. I hope it’s not for next weekend. We’re planning to take the kids to Charlotte for the NCAA Tournament.

I heard it’s bananas there; party after party.

Yeah, the games are like an added attraction.

I pulled a white card out of the envelope. Glancing inside, I spotted the hotel magnetic key. I cleared my throat and read the note in silence:

Eurydice,

Meet me in the Mandarin Suite this evening at 7 sharp. Wear that Alien perfume that I like and no panties. I plan to eat you for my dinner and then we can order some room service for you . . . unless you want to lick your dinner.

Signed,

Orpheus

A grin the size of Texas must have spread across my face, because Shane started walking about my massive oak desk to try to read over my shoulder. I snapped to my senses in time to flip the card over before she could see it.

Hmm, something secretive, huh? she asked.

No, not at all. It’s just private and it’s not an invitation, I lied. It was an offer, but not one to go network or party. It was a solicitation to fuck . . . from Orpheus.

Shane, can you go get Mike Wegman’s portfolio? I left it in the conference room earlier.

Shane looked dejected as she switched

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